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Poems 

Kenry  Barrett  Hinckley 

Lorthampton, 1S09 . 


"•I  give  ihe/e  Books 
for  the  foicnding  of  a  CotUge  in  this  Colonf 


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'  YALE  «¥]MH¥IEKSIIir¥' 


POEMS 


BY 


HENRY  BARRETT  HINCKLEY 


NORTHAMPTON,  MASSACHUSETTS 

THE  NONOTUCK  PRESS 

1909 


POEMS 


BY 


HENRY  BARRETT  HINCKLEY 

u 


NORTHAMPTON,   MASSACHUSETTS 

THE  NONOTUCK  PRESS 

1909 


f  J^ 


Copyright,  1909,  by 
Henry  Barrett  Hinckley 


CONTENTS. 

PAOE 

Caesar's  Wife 5 

Savonarola 27 

Oberon  and  Titania 31 

Vesper 36 

Her  Face 37 

Madeline  Kneeling 38 

The  Last  Rose .39 


CAESAR'S    WIFE. 


Dramatis  Personae. 

LUCIUS  CORNELIUS  SULLA,  dictator. 
LUCIUS  LiciNius  MURENA,  his  lieutenant. 
CHRYSOGONUS,  his  freedman. 
CAius  JULIUS  CAESAR,  a  young  Roman. 

LUCIUS  DIDIUS, 

TITUS,  \    friends  of  Caesar. 

PUBLIUS, 
ARCHIAS,     1       , 

Y  slaves. 
DAVOS,  J 

Other  slaves.     Twenty-four  lictors. 


CAESAR'S  WIFE. 

Scene. — Rome.  The  Dining  Hall  in  the  Housv 
of  Caesar.  Among  the  properties  an  Image 
of  Marius.  Caesar,  Didius,  Titus  and  Puhlius 
drinking  and  throwing  dice. 

TITUS. 

Our  Lucius  throws  the  very  dice  of  Jove: 
Always  the  triple  six!     Good  Didius, 
Upon  what  altar  with  what  sacrifice 
Hast  thou  invoked  Dame  Fortune? 

DIDIUS. 

Sesterces 
Are  light  to  win  and  lighter  far  to  lose. 
Do  you  throw,  Publius? 

PUBLIUS. 

Nay,  I  do  not  find 
This  losing  light. 

CAESAR. 

Bring  Publius  a  cup 
New-wreath'd  with  roses  of  Falernian; 
For  wine  is  blood  of  courage  in  the  heart, 
Making  men  kings,  and  kings  philosophers. 
What  were  you  telling,  Lucius? 


Caesar's  Wife. 

DIDIUS. 

This  Antistia 
Was  daughter  to  Antistius,  the  pretor 
That  tried  the  cause;  and  fashion  doth  report 
No  youth  in  Rome  more  fair  than  Cnaeus  Pompey. 
The  daughter  whisper'd  in  her  father's  ear: 
And,  from  that  time,  no  word  of  peculation. 
Pompey  was  clear'd  where  love  was  evidence. 

TITUS. 

Was  Pompey  honest,  think  you? 

DIDIUS. 

Ev'n  as  much 
As  honesty  lies  in  the  grace  of  judges. 

PUBLIUS. 

If  ever  I  shall  dip  my  hands  in  bribes 
I  pray  that  some  Antistius  be  pretor; 
And  may  a  lovely  daughter  at  his  side 
Sit  like  presiding  Justice! 

TITUS. 

Cnaeus  Pompey 
Did  put  aside  the  lovely  form  of  Justice 
When  Sulla  spoke.     The  daughter  he  divorced, 
The  father  slighted.     Caius,  was  it  brave? 
Would  you  as  Pompey? 


Caesar's  Wife. 

CAESAR. 

Nay,  let  Pompey  be. 
Know  you  a  man  in  Rome  that  would  resist 
Under  like  circumstance  the  word  of  Sulla? 

DIDIUS. 

They  say  this  Sulla  by  his  own  decree 
Hath  made  himself  the  chosen  favorite 
Of  your  Aeneas'  mother.     Heaven  obeys 
The  nod  of  Rome's  dictator,  and  your  sires, 
Good  Caius,  all  are  subject  to  his  will. 

CAESAR. 

I  prithee,  Lucius  Didius,  mock  me  not. 
Sulla  is  subject  to  his  own  heart's  mirth, 
And  if  the  gods  forbear  shall  Caesar  chide? 

DIDIUS. 

Our  Caius  will  not  be  as  common  gods. 
He  parries  with  a  jest  a  giant's  arm, 
The  hundred-handed  Sulla  climbing  heaven. 

TITUS. 

And  look,  the  very  dice  applaud  the  jest! 

PUBLIUS. 

No  more  for  me!     Good  Caius,  these  are  yours, 
And  truly  I  would  coin  my  heart  to  lose 
To  one  that  so  doth  value  coin  of  love. 


Caesar's  Wife. 

CAESAR. 

No,  keep  the  stakes.     If  you  are  Caesar's  friend 
You  win  by  losing  to  him.     Life  is  brief, 
From  womb  to  tomb  a  momentary  space, 
Nor  hath  man  greater  honor  in  his  hour 
Than  to  have  profited  to  all  his  friends. 

TITUS. 

Most  noble  Caius! 

[Knocking  heard.l 

CAESAR. 

Ha!  what  noise  was  that? 
[Loud  and  long  knocking.'] 
Inexorable  haste  to  beat  the  doors 
That  evermore  are  open!     Archias, 
Thine  ofRce  is  nomenclator.     Attend! 
What  hubbub  is  this?     Could  a  lictor's  ax 
More  insolently  hew  its  tyrannous  way 
Into  our  sacred  home  of  privacy? 

TITUS. 

0  Caius  Caesar,  thou  hast  Sulla's  soul! 

Beware  thou  mock  not  at  authority, 

For  thou  shalt  sooner  tinge  thy  toga's  edge 

In  deep  and  inmost  purple  of  thy  heart 

Than  stand  before  his  frown  who  frowneth  death. 

[Enter  chrysogonus.] 


Caesar's  Wife. 

CAESAR. 

Peace  to  foreboding !     Here  's  his  messenger. 
What  is  't,  Chrysogonus,  that  brings  you  hither  ? 
We  do  not  use  to  have  authority 
Beating   our  doors  with  loud  oppression.     Speak! 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

I  come  to  speak  to  Caius  Julius  Caesar. 
Sulla  hath  markt  you,  honor'd  you,  and  lov'd. 
He  bids  you  therefore  speedily  renounce 
Alliance  with  his  foes.     You  have  to  wife 
The  daughter  of  Cornelius  Cinna.     Her 
He  bids  you  instantly  to  set  aside. 
He  bids  you  hold  yourself  more  dearly  far 
Than  question  the  authority  of  Rome. 
His  hands  are  full  of  honor  and  of  death: 
Your  destiny  now  lies  upon  your  tongue. 

CAESAR. 

How  terrible  is  Sulla  in  his  love! 
So  Jupiter  appear'd  to  Semele, 
In  might  of  fire  and  thunder.     Quickly,  sir, 
Go  tell  your  general,  the  great  dictator, 
We  Julians  are  descended  of  the  gods. 
And  at  our  hearths  we  have  already  love 
And  highest  honor.     Bid  him  keep  his  gifts 
For  those  more  needy.     I  will  keep  my  wife. 

TITUS. 

Thou  art  a  Roman  seeking  thine  own  death. 
Speak  mildly,  Caius. 


Caesar's  Wife. 

CAESAR. 

Nay,  I  cannot  change. 
The  halting  steward  of  the  jeering  gods 
Was  not  so  lame  but  that  he  could  avenge 
The  insolence  of  Mars  that  took  his  wife. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

How  glibly  doth  the  young  man  talk  of  gods! 

PUBLIUS. 

0  Caius,  thou  art  young;  reject  not  life! 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

1  will  speak  mildly,  for  he  bade  me  so. 
Bethink  you,  bind  yourself  to  Sulla's  love: 

The  Senate  rules,  and  consulship  and  triumph, 
Life  and  the  greatness  that  a  Roman  loves 
Now  hang  by  your  obedience.     If  he  come, 
The  great  dictator's  self  that  sent  me  hither, 
I  will  not  breathe  of  what  may  be  your  fate. 

CAESAR. 

Why,  now  you  have  a  true  patrician's  accent 

That  will  not  wound  the  softness  of  the  ear 

With  words  of  evil.     Friend,  return  to  Sulla. 

Tell  him  with  omens  gentle  as  his  own 

I  keep  my  wife,  Cornelia,  being  true, 

Faithful  above  suspicion,  loving,  gentle. 

The  daughter  of  Cornelius  Cinna,  once  the  friend 

10 


Caesar's  Wife. 

Of  Caius  Marius  that  my  uncle  was 
And  the  deliverer  of  ancient  Rome. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

Your  eloquence  hath  m.arr'd  you,  mocking  me! 

CAESAR. 

I  reverence  my  name,  not  mocking  you. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

I  say  you  mock  me !    You  have  heard. — Obey ! 

CAESAR. 

I  have  obey'd  the  spirit  of  my  sires. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

Insolent  stripling,  you  shall  join  them  straight! 

lExit.] 

PUBLIUS. 

0  Caius,  quickly  call  him  back,  repent! 

CAESAR. 

Never ! 

PUBLIUS. 

Nay,  thou  shalt  die  unless  thou  do. 
11 


Caesar's  Wife. 

DIDIUS. 

Unless  thou  yield  I  cannot  be  thy  friend. 
Thou  soar'st  aloft  into  the  very  sun 
On  wings  of  Icarus. 

CAESAR. 

It  is  not  long 
That  I,  perchance,  shall  trouble  you  with  friend- 
ship. 

PUBLIUS. 

0  Caius,  speak  not  so.    We  love  thee  all, 
And  earnestly  we  bid  thee  love  thy  life 
And  put  aside  the  passion  of  thy  youth, 
Thy  wife  Cornelia.     Love,  they  say,  doth  pass. 
But  life  remaineth  sweet  unto  the  end. 
0  Caius,  hear  me.     Whither  shall  I  turn 
If  thou  shalt  die  ? 

CAESAR. 

The  heart  of  Caius  Caesar 
Is  purple-bordered  like  the  curule  robe. 
Nor  can  forget  its  office  to  be  high. 
Shall  I  desert  the  meanest  of  my  friends 
To  be  a  bruited  coward?     Sulla  rules. 
Shedding  the  blood  of  Romans  in  our  streets; 
He  dictates  in  our  Senate,  is  a  god 
In  all  our  temples,  calls  himself  the  friend 
Of  Venus  and  of  Fortune.     Be  it  sol 

12 


Caesar's  Wife. 

Yet  that  one  soul  of  which  I  am  the  lord 
I  will  keep  lordly,  and  within  my  home 
I  stoop  for  naught  save  courtesy  or  law. 

PUBLIUS. 

Then,  Caius,  let  me  with  thee  die,  for  thou 
Art  more  than  Sulla,  tho  he  greatly  nod 
The  brow  of  Jupiter. 

TITUS. 

Nay,  'tis  a  tyrant! 
A  red-comb'd  rooster  strutting  in  our  yard! 
A  Tarquin  with  our  dames,  an  old  Etruscan! 

CAESAR. 

He  Is  a  soldier,  and  Rome's  enemies, 
Jugurtha  and  the  Pontic  Mithridates, 
The  Samnite  and  the  Tuscan,  fled  from  him, 
And  Rome  was  sav'd  in  hollow  of  his  hand. 
{Turns  to  the  Image  of  Marius.'] 

0  Marius,  Marius !  thou  didst  face  the  Gaul 
O'erswarming  Italy;  thou  didst  defeat 
The  Cimbrian  and  the  savage  of  the  Rhine. 
Rome  breathes  through  thee,  and  wreathed  art 

thou  gone 
Where  hangs  the  grandeur  of  the  calm  of  death. 
[To  the  company.l 

1  will  go  seek  the  lady.     Good  my  friends, 
Be  merry  while  you  may,  for  life  is  life, 
And  in  my  will  you  are  remember'd  all. 

13 


Caesar's  Wife. 

ALL. 

Most  noble  Caesar ! 

PUBLIUS. 

We  will  never  leave  thee! 

CAESAR. 

Softly,  my  friends;  the  end  of  life  is  death. 
Let  death  be  sudden  and  ourselves  prepar'd. 
I  will  go  seek  Cornelia,  whom,  perchance, 
I  shall  not  see  hereafter.     Bide  you  here. 
Davos,  bring  wine.     If  the  dictator  comes 
Tell  him  I  will  return.     A  kind  farewell! 
[Exif] 

TITUS. 

This  Caesar  if  he  lives  will  be  more  great 
Than  Lucius  Sulla. 

PUBLIUS. 

Come  all  friends  to  aid. 
He  must  not  die  that  thus  hath  spoken  freedom. 

DIDIUS. 

Nay,  save  him  if  you  can.     Obedience 

Is  light  of  price.    Why  should  he  love  his  wife? 

14 


Caesar's  Wife. 

TITUS. 

It  is  the  spirit  of  old  Sextus  Tarquin 
To  meddle  with  our  homes.     If  such  shall  rule 
We  shall  have  dancing  satyrs  at  our  hearths 
For  old  penates. 

PUBLIUS. 

0  ye  sacred  hills! 

DIDIUS. 

Nay,  listen  me,  for  you  are  children  both. 

Do  you  suppose  this  trouble  on  this  house 

Is  but  a  private  grief  of  love  and  passion? 

It  is  a  matter  gravely  politic. 

For  Caesar's  wife  was  Cinna's  child.     The  foes 

Of  our  dictator  muster  round  the  names 

Of  Marius  and  Cinna.     Sulla  seeks 

To  draw  our  Caesar  to  the  Senate's  part 

Forsaking  Cinna's.     'T  is  a  deed  of  love 

In  him  who  reaps  a  harvest  by  each  death 

To  offer  Caesar  life  on  light  condition. 

Let  him  forsake  this  woman  for  another. 

He  shall  have  love  anon,  for  he  has  youth; 

And  peace,  too,  shall  he  have  and  Sulla's  favor. 

Let  men  that  love  their  lives  be  wise! 

TITUS. 

0  cease ! 
I  never  knew  thee  for  a  friend  of  tyrants. 

15 


Caesar's  Wife. 

PUBLIUS. 

0  thou  hast  spoken  treason  of  thy  friend! 

TITUS. 

Let  them  submit  that  will;  yet  Vesta's  fire, 
The  symbol  and  the  common  hearth  of  Rome, 
Hath  not  more  sacred  ashes  than  the  hearts 
That  burn  for  ancient  freedom.     In  our  homes 
There  is  an  unquencht  spark.     0  Caius  Caesar, 
All  gods  I  do  invoke  to  give  thee  speed! 
And  if  thou  die  ascend  thou  to  the  gods 
Whose  love  hath  widen'd  Rome,  and  in  their  ears 
Tell  them  an  Eastern  conqueror  hath  won 
The  altars  that  they  lov'd ! 

DIDIUS. 

Is  Caius  Caesar 
A  god  already  that  thou  call'st  him  thus? 
Mark  me,  I  spoke  to  you  as  one  should  speak 
That  wisely  loves  a  friend  that  is  a  man 
Subject  to  Fortune.     'T  is  a  throw  of  dice 
Which  Roman  rules.     If  Caius  love  his  life 
He  yet  may  stand  more  high  than  Lucius  Sulla. 
An  ancient  house  is  his,  the  people's  love. 
Which  were  not  Sulla's.     Let  him  love  his  life. 

TITUS. 

Is  it  a  throw  of  dice  who  rules  in  Rome? 
Then  let  me  pour  this  wine  and  greatly  pray. 
[Pours  a  libation.'] 

IG 


Caesar's  Wife. 

0  Fortune,  be  not  all  of  Sulla's  faction! 
Smile  thou  on  Caesar,  too,  for  he  is  young, 
Great  in  his  spirit,  mightily  belov'd! 

[Takes  a  dice-box.] 
Now  will  I  throw,  abiding  thy  decision. 
Great  arbiter  ev'n  of  the  fates  of  gods! 
If  it  be  high  that  you  shall  see  me  throw. 
Then  be  thou  high,  our  Julius,  and  guard 
In  thy  great  spirit  liberty  and  hearths, 
And  wives  and  images  of  sires  and  lares. 
The  inmost  chamber  of  the  heart  of  Rome. 

[Throws  the  dice.    Before  he  uncovers 

a  loud  noise  is  heard.     He  starts  back. 

Enter  lictors  folloiv'd  by  SULLA,  MU- 

RENA  and  CHRYSOGONUS.] 

SULLA. 

It  is  the  spirit  of  old  Marius 

Inciting  to  rebellion.     In  the  field 

He  was  a  worthy  soldier ;  but  at  home. 

Seeking  to  rule  and  lord  it  o'er  the  state 

And  win  the  hearts  of  true-discerning  Romans — 

Bethink  you,  sirs,  a  graceless  Polypheme 

Courting  the  sea-nymph  Popularity; 

An  old,  unwieldly  giant,  with  his  foot 

Broad  and  unwitting  set  on  ancient  rights. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

My  lord,  he  was  to  me  most  insolent. 
Rebellious  in  his  answer,  tho  I  was 
Your  Excellency's  messenger.     I  pray  you 
Avenge  yourself! 

17 


Caesar's  Wife. 

SULLA. 

Peace,  good  Chrysogonus! 
This  is  the  Julian  mansion.     Where  is  he? 

DIDIUS. 

My  lord  dictator,  he  was  even  now 
In  counsel  with  us,  and  he  bade  us  say 
That  if  you  came  he  would  return  anon. 

SULLA. 

I  did  not  think  to  find  you,  Lucius  Didius, 
In  counsel  with  rebellion.     Get  you  hence! 
Avoid  this  house  forever — do  you  hear? 
I  once  had  thought  you  friendly  to  the  state. 
Nay,  not  a  word — obey! 

[Exit  DIDIUS.] 

A  soldier,  sirs, 
Must  do  the  bidding  of  the  general. 

CHRYSOGONUS. 

Thou  art  a  trumpet  summoning  old  Rome 
To  thine  unconquer'd  banner.     Let  them  die 
That  will  not  feel  the  stir  of  loyal  blood 
When  thou  dost  sound  the  order ! 

SULLA. 

Softly,  sir. 
Here  comes  our  Caesar;  youthful  is  his  look, 
Slender  and  graceful  as  the  Syrian  god 
Whom  maidens  mourn. 

[Enter  caesar.] 

18 


Caesar's  Wife. 

0  Caesar,  I  could  yield 
Ev'n  to  that  love  thy  presence  bears  with  thee. 
Too  delicate  thou  art  for  war's  alarms; 
Thy  life  is  peace;  I  bid  thee  seek  thine  ease. 

CAESAR. 

My  lord,  't  is  said  yourself  were  f ram'd  for  peace : 
Letters  you  lov'd  and  high  philosophy, 
The  cup  of  wine,  the  deeper  cup  of  love. 

SULLA. 

'T  is  true,  't  is  true !     It  is  most  aptly  true ! 
Myself  was  as  yourself,  young,  delicate, 
Yet  have  I  beaten  enemies  of  Rome 
Wherever  I  have  met  them  on  the  field. 
All  Greece  and  Thrace  and  Macedonia 
Lay  cow'd  before  the  arms  of  Mithridates; 
Who  sow'd  rebellion  in  the  allied  hearts 
Of  Samnite  and  Etruscan,  till  our  state 
Was  tempest-shaken  with  the  pulse  of  war. 
Sedition  burn'd  like  fever  in  our  streets, 
The  arteries  of  this  city.     On  the  sea 
Swarm'd  gadfly  pirates  in  a  cloud  to  sting 
The  peace  of  ev'ry  landsman.     Forth  I  went, 
Leaving  my  private  foes  to  burn  my  home, 
Butcher  my  wife  and  children,  while  I  fought 
The  common  enemy,  the  Pontic  king. 
Hard  fought  I  on  each  field,  nor  had  I  fleet 
To  aid  my  sieges  nor  provision  me. 
Upon  Beotia's  plain  by  Cephisus 
Hard  were  we  prest,  my  best  of  soldiers  waver'd. 

19 


Caesar's  Wife. 

Then  threw  I  off  my  helm,  and  swiftly  rode 

In  furious  galop  through  the  wavering  ranks 

Where  darts  flew  thick,  and  evermore  I  cried : 

"Soldiers,  let  it  be  said  if  on  this  day. 

You  ever  did  forsake  your  general!" 

Then  shame  brought  cheer  and  courage  to  their 

hearts. 
They  charg'd,  we  won.   Yet  ev'ry  week  there  came 
From  Rome  some  messenger  denouncing  me, 
Calling  me  outlaw,  traitor,  bidding  me 
Resign  command  to  carping  demagogs. 
Whom,  loving  Rome,  I  did  ignore,  and  past 
From  Greece  to  Asia,  pinning  Mithridates 
Within  his  proper  fold.     And  I  aveng'd 
The  Romans  he  had  massacred,  regain'd 
The  Asian  revenues  he  stript  us  of; 
And  on  Euphrates'  banks  I  first  receiv'd 
Of  Roman  generals  Parthian  embassies. 

CAESAR. 

Our  children's  children,  sir,  when  they  shall  read 
Of  these  your  actions  all  shall  call  you  great. 
If  ever  I  do  deeds  as  great  as  yours 
I  shall,  like  you,  write  commentaries  of  them. 
For  I  am  young,  unknown  nor  lauded  high. 
Yet  would  I  fight  Rome's  battles  ev'n  as  you. 

SULLA. 

'T  is  courteously  said,  you  are  patrician, 
The  order  that  I  seek  to  found  anew, 
Beating  as  low  as  hell  and  Tartarus 

20 


Caesar's  Wife. 

The  traitors  and  the  rabble  that  withstand. 
Shall  I  that  sav'd  this  Rome  from  Samnite  arms 
In  desperate  struggle  at  the  Colline  Gate, 
What  time  all  broken  with  a  weary  march 
From  night  till  morning  in  the  terrible  dark 
We  battled  blindly — I  that  sav'd  this  state, 
Which  else  had  perisht  utterly  from  earth, 
Betray  the  confidence  of  Roman  gods 
By  yielding  Rome  to  lawless  mobbery? 
You  are  patrician;  let  your  fathers'  blood 
Speak  in  your  deeds!     I  bid  you  purge  yourself, 
Ev'n  to  the  extreme  of  purging,  from  the  stain 
Whereto  you  are  allied.     Cornelius  Cinna, 
The  enemy  of  ev'ry  optimate, 
Was  father  to  your  wife.     Set  her  aside. 

CAESAR. 

Never,  my  lord. 

SULLA. 

You  do  withstand  me,  sir? 

CAESAR. 

I  stand  upon  the  honor  of  my  house. 
Longer  I  will  not  choose  to  wear  my  life 
Than  as  a  seemly  garment.     While  I  live 
I  will  not  speak  assent  to  tyranny. 

SULLA. 

Most  insolent!     You  do  forget  that  I 
Am  the  dictator,  by  the  Senate's  vote 

21 


Caesar's  Wife. 

Created  as  an  instrument  of  death 
To  ev'ry  demagog  and  ev'ry  traitor, 

CAESAR. 

Call  me  then  traitor  when  I  have  betray'd 
The  name  of  Caesar !     In  the  streets,  my  lord, 
Your  rule  is  absolute.     The  Senate's  vote 
Robes  you  with  office  in  each  public  place. 
Lictors  attend  you,  and  of  life  and  death 
The  chance  of  war  hath  made  you  arbiter 
To  ev'ry  Roman.     But  within  this  house, 
And  for  what  touches  me  as  near  as  wife, 
I  will  be  Caius  Caesar  till  I  die. 
It  is  not  the  tradition  of  our  house 
That  Julians  bow  save  unto  Roman  law. 
You  tread  on  Rome  as  on  a  subject  city 
When,  vaunting  high  authority,  you  come 
To  annul  my  rights  as  citizen  of  Rome. 

SULLA. 

Young  man,  I  think  you  have  not  understood: 
My  name  is  Lucius  Sulla.     In  my  hand 
I  hold  law,  life,  and  liberty  and  death. 
Obey  me:  speedily  you  shall  be  great. 
Resist  me:  none  shall  ever  mark  your  tomb 
Nor  say:  "Who  was  he?"     On  this  little  choice 
Is  hung  your  destiny.     Forsake  your  wife 
And  love  another.     Did  not  I  the  same? 
You  shall  command  an  army  and  I  read 
Of  triumph  in  your  brow.     Be  obstinate: 
I  will  not  breathe  that  omen  on  your  house 
To  tell  you  what  shall  happen. 

22 


Caesar's  Wife. 

CAESAR. 

I  have  said 
What  is  to  say.     I  shall  retain  my  wife. 
Tho  ev'ry  Roman  throughout  Italy 
Stood  lictor  to  you  with  a  lictor's  sheaf, 
And  ev'ry  lictor's  ax  were  red  with  blood, 
I  would  not  yield.     Is  honor  less  than  life? 

SULLA. 

This  is  the  veriest  Marius  of  them  all! 
Too  many  of  thy  like  do  strut  in  Rome 
Courting  the  voice  of  brawling  demagogs. 
Around  this  man  what  rabble  will  arise! 
Our  Cimbrians  will  rule  us,  and  belike 
We  favor'd  of  the  gods  shall  feel  the  lash, 
The  chains  and  bitterness  of  slavery! 

[To  the  lictors.] 
Seize  him,  I  say;  lead  him  to  instant  death! 

MURENA. 

My  lord,  forbear! 

SULLA. 

Nay,  not  a  word! 

MURENA. 

The  state 
Shall  profit  by  his  youth. 

23 


Caesar's  Wife. 

SULLA. 

Nay,  by  his  death! 

MURENA. 

He  is  the  stuff  that  ancient  Romans  were 
What  time  our  fathers  fought  with  Hannibal. 

SULLA. 

Let  him  be  brave  to  other  men  than  me! 

MURENA. 

Do  me  this  grace,  my  lord,  to  spare  his  life, 

I  will  be  surety  for  his  good  behavior. 

We  have  proscrib'd  already  of  the  Caesars 

His  grandsire  and  his  uncle.     Banish  him. 

He  shall  learn  wisdom  in  a  foreign  land 

And  hunger  for  the  Rome  where  he  hath  spurn'd 

The  fortune  of  your  favor.     Good  my  lord. 

If  ever  I  have  follow'd  you  on  field, 

Spare  this  young  man,  whom  sure  you  cannot  fear. 

Nay,  for  you  promist  me  to  grant  this  day 

A  boon  when  I  should  ask  it.     Spare  his  life. 

SULLA. 

I  never  lost  a  battle  until  now. 
Surely  I  see  dominion  in  his  eye 
That  so  withstands  me. 

24 


Caesar's  Wife. 

MURENA. 

Yet  if  he  shall  rule 
He  cannot  change  his  high  patricianhood, 
And  therefore  can  the  Senate  little  suffer. 
He  shall  learn  wisdom  when  he  gathers  years 
And  Rome  shall  need  his  spirit  when  we  are  gone. 

SULLA. 

Ay,  there  's  a  point !     Young  man,  I  spare  your 

life; 
I  leave  to  you  this  woman  whom  you  prize. 
Yet  little  shall  you  profit  by  your  pride: 
I  confiscate  her  dower,  her  father's  fortune; 
I  interdict  you,  too,  from  fire  and  water. 
If  three  weeks  hence  you  be  in  Italy 
Your  life  is  forfeited.     Whom  I  shall  send 
Shall  reason  with  the  dagger,  which  no  heart 
Is  proof  against.     Away,  my  friends. 
Surely  we  have  affairs  of  greater  moment 
Than  little  Caesar's,  whose  obscurity 
Shall  be  his  safety.     Lictors,  right  face,  march! 
Come,  good  Murena  and  Chrysogonus! 

[Exeunt  sulla,  murena,  chrysogonus 

and  lictors.     publius  comes  forward 

and  uncovers  the  dice."] 

publius. 

0  Titus,  look !     It  is  the  triple  six. 

The  gods  were  with  us  tho  they  thunder'd  not 

Save  in  the  voice  of  Sulla. 

25 


Caesar's  Wife. 

TITUS. 

Marius 
So  aw'd  the  slave  his  executioner 
That  he  in  panic  from  his  office  turn'd. 
But  thou,  our  Caesar,  with  thy  conquering  eye 
Hast  overaw'd  the  master  in  whose  sight 
All  men  are  slaves. 

CAESAR. 

0  Jupiter  most  high, 
Thou  stayer  of  the  enemies  of  Rome! 
Surely  I  dream'd  that  thou  didst  wreathe  my  head. 
Thine  eagle  flew  above  me  on  the  right. 
Good  friends,  I  leave  you.     To  depart  in  haste 
Must  be  mine  utmost  office.     Fare  you  well. 
For  to  be  free  is  still  to  be  a  mark 
For  Sulla's  anger.     Love  me  being  gone. 
And  when  I  come  again  my  strength  shall  shield 
you. 

[Exeunt} 


26 


SAVONAROLA. 

Ferrara,  1474. 

How  sweet  my  lute-string  murmurs,  throbbing  low 
With  subtle  pleasure  hid  in  subtle  pain ! 
And,  half,  the  bright  eye  moistens,  half,  a  smile 
Breaks  round  the  mouth,  so  wondrous  't  is  to  hear. 
Mother,  methinks  my  lute's  low  notes  are  lives, 
Vibrant  and  sweetly  transient  from  the  sense 
To  harmonies  of  silence.     This  my  life 
Is  writ  as  theirs ;  and  it  is  even  now 
I  feel  a  sad  crescendo  of  the  soul. 

''Renounce,  renounce,  forevermore  renounce!" 
It  is  my  heart's  sad  burden;  yet  I  know 
I  have  not  lov'd  the  glory  of  this  world. 
I  have  not  in  the  insolence  of  mind 
Forgotten  God,  nor  in  a  learned  pride 
Thrown  sanctity  to  idols,  base-born  gods 
That  bow'd  the  knee  of  unillumin'd  Greece. 
That  marble  world,  the  ghost  of  buri'd  days, 
Speaks  to  me  of  the  earth,  whereto  it  sank 
Before  the  voice  of  Him  who  spake  of  heaven. 
Yea,  from  a  child  methinks  my  heart  hath  borne 
Some  sweetness  of  the  radiance  of  Christ. 

'T  is  long  ago,  yet  still  the  memory  lives 
How  as  a  boy  I  stood  beside  the  Po 
And  saw  Duke  Borso's  purple  galley  move. 
With  streamers  flaunting  and  with  instruments, 
Pipes,  drums  and  trumpets,  and  fair  singing  boys, 

27 


Savonarola. 

Upstream  toward  Mantua,  whence  Pope  Pius  came, 
In  a  like  floating  splendor,  gay  with  song. 
Then,  prow  to  prow,  the  floating  galleys  came 
Mid  craft  innumerable  down  the  stream 
And  measur'd  dip  of  silver-flashing  oars. 
Dost  thou  remember  how  on  either  bank 
Rose  statues  of  the  pagan  deities? 
And  I  with  other  boys  stood  garlanded. 
Pelting  the  stream  with  flow'rs,  and  cried  aloud: 
"Long  live  the  Pope !"  and  "Long  may  Borso  live!" 

Behind  me  rose  a  statue  fair  and  white 
(0  whited  sepulcher  of  wicked  thought!), 
A  Bacchus  in  the  tendrils  of  his  vine, 
With  light  thyrse  on  his  shoulder,  tipsily 
Half-reeling  from  the  carven  pedestal. 
And  as  the  Pope  was  passing  an  old  man, 
Plague-scarr'd  and  ragged,  and  in  weary  pain 
Lean'd  pantingly  against  the  pedestal. 
Till  pompously  an  oflficer  came  by. 
With  half  a  twang  of  Latin  in  his  nose. 
And  beat  him  thence :  "Vile  garbage  of  the  street, 
That  dost  defile  the  white  and  beauteous  gods 
With  all-polluting  presence,  get  thee  gone! 
In  malam  rem!"     And  whack  the  tipstaff  came 
'Thwart  the  bare  shoulder,  and  a  purple  wale 
Started  in  anger  from  the  wounded  flesh. 
Ah!  then  methought  the  splendor  of  this  world 
Was  bitter  mockery,  and  the  princely  Pope, 
That  was  Christ's  vicar,  all  unlikest  Him 
Whose  royalty  was  thorns  upon  His  brow. 
And  suddenly  the  flow'rs  fell  from  my  lap; 
My  voice,  a  flutter'd  prisoner  in  my  throat, 
Could  shout  aloud  no  longer.     In  mine  eyes 
I  felt  the  salt  of  sorrow  bid  me  weep. 

28 


Savonarola. 

Oh,  seek  not  for  me  that  my  name  may  shine 
In  princely  courts  for  learning,  for  my  heart 
Is  given  to  One  that  is  a  prince  above! 

How  like  the  spirit  is  my  lute-string's  sound ! 
Whence  comes  nor  whither  goes  it  no  man  knows. 
So  voices  haunt  me,  visions  in  the  night, 
That  beckon  me  to  more  than  human  loves. 

Thou  know'st  the  Strozzi  maiden  in  our  street. 
Like  a  madonna's  is  her  radiant  face. 
Upon  my  heart  her  shadow  fell  like  light, 
Subduing  me  to  gentle  reverence. 
Methought  that  blessed  in  her  love  my  life 
Might  be  as  heaven.     But  suddenly  in  scorn 
She  turn'd  upon  me  with  a  haughty  word : 
A  Strozzi  might  not  wed  ungentle  blood! 
I  had  some  human  anger,  and  I  thought 
The  humble  were  the  very  blood  of  Christ. 
And,  therefore,  when  she  chid  me  for  my  blood 
She  wrong'd  the  heart  that  mov'd  it.     But  I  know 
That  when  our  deeds  are  searcht  at  utmost  Time 
And  ev'ry  secret  soilure  of  our  lives 
Stands  large  in  revelation,  shall  be  known 
Who  had  the  gentle  soul,  and  who  had  spread 
Th'  imperial  wing,  for  soaring  eagle-like. 

Alas,  for  human  anger,  human  love 
And  human  pride  that  lurks  in  human  love! 
My  heart  commend  I  to  the  God  that  made  it 
And  never  woman  shall  I  love  again. 

Now  is  the  last  flush  faded  from  the  west; 
The  shadow  deepens  in  the  azure  air ; 
And  lo,  already  in  the  farthest  east 
Night  with  one  hand  unveils  the  solemn  stars. 
Beloved  mother,  of  yon  heavenly  peace 
I  have  seen  visions.     But  corrupted  flesh 

29 


Savonarola. 

Is  fiercely  troubled  when  it  burns  of  God. 
And  now  already  in  my  heart  there  glows 
Fire  of  God's  altar;  I  already  tread 
The  purgatory  spiral,  round  by  round 
With  fervid  steps  to  climb  the  burning  peak, 
And  if  no  less  may  rid  me  of  my  sin 
Will  fall  in  ashes  at  the  feet  of  God. 
The  pain  of  life  is  nobler  than  the  joy, 
For  out  of  pain  comes  pow'r  to  conquer  pain. 
Then  seek  not  for  me  wealth  nor  worldly  fame. 
I  cannot  heal  the  sick  that  am  of  soul 
More  sick  than  any.     A  physician's  fee 
Were  loathsome  to  me,  and  the  touch  of  gold 
Is  as  pollution  and  the  stain  of  death. 
And  more  for  me  is  volum'd  in  that  book 
Where  line  by  line  is  drawn  the  plan  of  God 
By  great  Saint  Thomas'  finger  than  in  all 
The  antique  wisdom  of  the  Stagirite. 

Now  chimes  the  solemn  vesper  on  the  ear, 
The  convent  organ  murmurs,  and  the  monks 
Arise  and  cross  themselves  and  kneel  and  pray, 
Barefooted  on  the  holy  convent  floor. 
Mother,  if  nevermore  thou  see  my  face, 
Howe'er  thou  weep,  forgive  me,  for  my  heart 
Is  turn'd — ah,  God!  I  cannot  tell  thee  where! 


30 


OBERON  AND  TITANIA. 

OBERON. 

Where  have  you  been,  Titania? 

TITANIA. 

Down  the  hill. 
The  moonlight  beckon'd  brightly,  so  that  still 
I  could  not  be.     What  fay  can  sluggish  lie 
When  moonlight  twinkles  softly  on  her  eye? 
You  shall  not  chide  me  that  I  left  the  bow'r. 
Nay,  look  benignly,  for  I  shall  not  cow'r. 
Pish,  I  can  frown  as  well ! 

OBERON. 

I  did  not  chide. 
And  yet  it  vext  me  that  you  could  not  bide 
With  me  till  morning.     If  you  slight  my  crown 
That  am  your  husband,  then  I  think  a  frown 
Will  little  rule  you. 

TITANIA. 

Do  you  really  sigh? 
What  would  my  Oberon  to  droop  his  eye? 
My  bow'r-maids  all  were  with  me  there,  and  harm 
Befel  us  never  at  the  dairy-farm. 
Tho  we  make  mad  with  mischief  on  the  shelves, 
And  spill  the  fattest  cream  to  feast  ourselves, 

31 


Oberon  and  Titania. 

And  sour  the  milk,  and  pilfer  curds  and  whey, 
Yet  mortals  never  catch  us  at  our  play. 
They  always  flounder  when  a  fairy  springs, 
Mab  has  her  laugh  and  all  the  dairy  rings. 


OBERON. 

My  Mab  of  mockery,  unwean'd  of  wile, 
There  is  the  tease  of  witchcraft  in  your  smile. 
You  make  of  mortals  mock  and  merriment. 
And  laughingly  elude  their  ev'ry  hent. 
Less  subtly  doth  the  dew  of  morning  slip 
From  off  the  purple-drooping  harebell's  lip. 
So  hiding  in  the  mazes  of  the  wind 
That  where  it  is,  not  prophecy  can  find. 
I  know  this  ground,  each  tuft  and  ring  and  nook, 
Each  twist  and  ripple  of  the  winding  brook. 
Each  laughing  eddy;  but,  O,  who  can  skill 
Each  knot  and  dimple  of  a  woman's  will? 


TITANIA. 

Ay,  lay  it  on  the  women  in  fine  phrase! 

And  yet,  our  Puck,  they  say,  has  pantry  ways. 

But  we  be  noble  folk  in  all  our  play, 

And  have  seen  wondrous  things.     But  shall  I  say? 

OBERON. 

Ah,  now  the  story!     Quickly,  love,  go  on! 
And,  if  I  nod,  I  am  not  Oberon. 

32 


^  Oberon  and  Titania. 

TITANIA. 

It  was  not  daylight  when  we  reacht  the  ridge 
From  which  the  cascade  tumbles,  and  the  bridge 
Of  sedge  o'erarching,  which  each  wind  divides, 
So  that  none  save  my  Oberon  derides 
The  peril  of  its  passing. 

OBERON. 

Did  you  cross? 

TITANIA. 

No,  but  we  sat  us  on  a  bank  of  moss. 
And  markt  the  pomp  and  pageant  of  the  skies. 
For  in  the  gray  of  great  Aurora's  eyes 
The  fair  love-planet  twinkled,  but  grew  dim 
Before  the  mellow  morning.     Then  the  rim 
Of  all  the  east  was  burnisht,  and  the  rare 
Slow  stars  were  melted  into  dewy  air. 
And  then,  a  sight  for  kingly  eyes  deviz'd, 
Those  hills  by  magic  morning  alchemiz'd. 

We  paus'd  awhile  at  foot  of  the  cascade. 
For  there,  beneath  the  mists  and  rainbows  play'd 
An  elf,  swung  out  upon  a  blade  of  grass 
To  jeer  the  solemn  bubbles  as  they  pass. 
Anon  he  dropt  on  one  that  broke  in  spray. 
And  came  up  under  one  in  frolic  way; 
And,  floating  'neath  the  bubble  down  the  stream. 
He  ogled  till  he  made  my  maidens  scream. 
And  scatter  swift  as  startled  minnows  hide. 

Then,  from  the  knoll  what  pleasance  we  espied : 
The  rolling  tillage  where  the  broom  is  brave, 

33 


Oberon  and  Titania. 

The  pied,  sweet  meadow  where  the  daisies  wave, 
The  plot  where  clover  maketh  sweet  the  sod, 
And  bees  make  drowsy  cloverheads  to  nod 
While  they  for  honey  clamber,  taking  all. 
Not  ev'n  for  Mab  they  leave  it,  who  's  so  small 
She  pulls  the  honey  with  her  finger  fine 
Out  of  that  jester's  cap,  the  columbine. 

We  wander'd  far  away,  and  0,  so  long! 
But  back  we  turn'd  us  when  the  noon  was  strong 
In  burning  might  above  us.     Oberon, 
Look,  I  have  finisht  but  not  yet  begun! 
I  should  have  told  you  how  we  witcht  the  pail 
Foaming  with  milk ;  how  tawny-tumbling  ale 
Came  laughing  from  the  cask,  the  spigot  turn'd; 
And  how  we  woke  a  bat,  and  teasing,  earn'd 
A  seat  ev'n  on  the  flow'ring  apple-bough 
To  gird  the  lubber  mortal  at  his  plow. 
But  I  have  skipt  and  laught,  nor  told  you  all. 
You  '11  purse  your  lips,  and  mockingly  you  '11  call 
Me  gadding  Mab,  to  knot  and  dimple  still 
Like  yonder  brook  that  babbles  down  the  hill. 
But  if  you  say  so,  Oberon,  say  too 
I  never  yet  was  faithless  unto  you. 
Love  me  a  little  for  my  tongue  at  play, 
A  little  even  for  my  woman's  way. 

OBERON. 

Caprice  of  play  I  grudge  you  not  a  jot. 
With  all  your  pranks,  you  have  your  stedfast  spot. 
You  wind  and  wander  as  the  brook  doth  fall. 
Where'er  the  bend  is  easy.     But  through  all 
You  are  the  soul  of  singing,  bright  and  clear, 

34 


Oberon  and  Titania. 

Untroubled  in  a  thought.    I  love  you,  dear. 
For,  like  the  bee  to  whom  the  clover  yields, 
Loaded  with  all  the  sweetness  of  the  fields 
You  come  to  me;  and  till  you  come,  I  long. 
Now,  turn  your  cheek ;  I  will  not  do  it  wrong. 


35 


VESPER. 


Thy  shaft  of  light  is  like  a  temple-key 

That  opens  souls.  The  wings  of  thy  sweet  beams 

Beat  dewy  odors  on  the  hearts  to  be 
Partakers  of  the  peace  of  love  in  dreams. 

And  peace  to  me,  dear  Star,  thou  whisperest 
From  the  soft  loveliness  of  rosy  hights 

Ere  yet  into  the  bosom  of  the  west 

The  day  is  folded  and  the  world  is  night's. 

My  heart  goes  with  thee  as  I  hear  thy  lay, 
Chief  minstrel  of  the  singing  spheres  above! 

Swan  of  the  twilight,  song  of  dying  day, 
That  sailest  the  eternal  mere  of  love ! 


36 


HER  FACE. 

Her  face  it  is,  the  shadow  of  her  soul. 

Yet  not  her  face — ah,  that  is  past  away! 

The  picture's  gentle  silence  seems  to  say 
To  all  who  knew  her  ere  she  reacht  that  goal, 
All-waiting  and  mysterious,  where  the  roll 

Of  life's  sweet  murmur  ceases :  "Thou  didst  love 

Me  living.     Now  I  know  thy  heart;  and  of 
Thy  tenderness,  like  Patience'  spotless  stole. 
My  face  is  the  reward,  and  shineth  still." 

Breathlessly  perfect,  sweet  and  strong,  ev'n  now 
Thou  art  a  light  through  death!     Thy  wom- 
an's eye 
Transposes  time ;  thou  livest  with  the  will 

Of  girlish  majesty  white  on  thy  brow! 
And  thy  lips,  silent,  whisper  things  that  sigh. 


37 


MADELINE  KNEELING. 

The  sunlight,  golden,  rosy,  soft, 

Falls  lovingly  around; 
Through  stori'd  pane,  rose-window'd  loft 

And  swelling  organ-sound. 

She  kneels.    The  aureole  on  her  hair 

Is  like  an  angel's  wings; 
A  solemn  glory  bathes  her  there 

Of  translunary  things. 

Soft  as  the  paces  of  the  moon 
Her  bosom  heaves;  her  breath 

Is  stiller  than  the  calm  of  June 
When  life  is  still  as  death. 

Her  heart  it  throbs,  and  no  one  knows ; 

Her  lips  are  seal'd ;  her  prayer, 
The  incense  of  a  folded  rose, 

Makes  balm  where  angels  are. 


38 


THE  LAST  ROSE. 

You  that  in  the  sunshine  blow, 
Sweetly  come  and  sweetly  go, 
Like  the  summer,  lo,  you  pass, 
Fading  with  the  fading  grass. 

Wilful,  wanton  little  comer. 
Could  you  only  bloom  in  summer? 
Now  's  the  turning  of  the  leaves ; 
Autumn  stands  in  russet  sheaves. 

Where  you  shed  your  petals,  there 
Fragrance  lingers  in  the  air. 
Where  you  mingle  with  the  sod 
Ghosts  arise  of  golden-rod. 


39 


/■ 


NOTES  ON  CHAUCER 


BY 


HENRY  BARRETT  HINCKLEY 


A  commentary  (unaccompanied  by  the  text)  on 
the  Prolog  to  the  Canterbury  Tales,  and  on  the 
Tales  of  Knight,  Nun's  Priest,  Pardoner,  Clerk, 
Squire  and  Franklin.  This  work  gives,  m  concise 
form,  the  result  of  years  of  study,  illustratmg  the 
subject  from  many  and  various  pomts  of  view.  It 
has  been  highly  praised  by  competent  students  ot 
our  language  and  literature.  We  believe  that  very 
few  books  on  Chaucer  contain  an  equal  amount 
of  new,  pertinent  and  valuable  matter. 

In  fullness  and  learning  the  only  pre- 
vious Chaucer  commentary  comparable 
with  it  is  that  which  accompanies  Proi- 
W.  W.  Skeat's  standard  edition  of  the 
poet's  works.     The  {New  York)  Nation. 

The  volume  is  a  learned  and  valuable 
contribution  to  Chaucerian  study  which 
no  editor  can  hereafter  afford  to  overlook. 
Dr.  Horace  Howard  Furness. 


We  regret  that  the  price  is  too  low  to  penult  of 
a  trade  discount.  Save  commissions  by  ordermg 
directly  of  us. 

Price,  $3.00  net. 

THE  NONOTUCK  PRESS 
Box  267       Northampton,  Massachusetts,  U.  S.  A. 


M191993 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


